


Turnabout

by UnmovingGreatLibrary



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmovingGreatLibrary/pseuds/UnmovingGreatLibrary
Summary: Sagume is a lowly rebel who rises to become a powerful administrator of the moon.Eirin is a founding administrator of the moon who falls to become an exiled rebel.It would all be much simpler if they weren't in a relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I based the style of the mythological bits on the Chamberlain translation of the Kojiki, since it's both the easiest version to find online and has that old-timey grammar people associate with mythology and religion. Calling Chamberlain's style of translating names 'clunky' would be putting it really lightly, though, and some names don't seem to have standard transliterations, either. To simplify matters, I just call everybody whatever they're referred to as in [the Encyclopedia of Shinto.](http://k-amc.kokugakuin.ac.jp/DM/dbTop.do?class_name=col_eos)
> 
> I'll probably stick some other notes along these lines on my blog, since I had to fill in a lot more gaps than usual.
> 
> * * *

_Thus Amenosagume was captured, and she was bound with eight lengths of rice straw rope, to be held by four guards to her right and four guards to her left, so that she might not escape. They led her to the great palace of the deity Amatsukunitama, saying, “Here is the earthly spirit Amenosagume, whose lies did slay the deity Amewakahiko. What should be done with her?”_

* * *

Like everything else on the moon, the parties had every drop of joy squeezed out of them.

They were dry, formal affairs, always intended to celebrate some event that was just as dry and formal. She hadn't even bothered to read up on what today's was meant to commemorate, but she'd picked up everything she cared to know from speeches anyway: The wife of one of the administrators had given birth to a child, the first to be born in this new lunar society.

Sagume was glad that she hadn't read up on it. She didn't even want to know how many types of purification they felt were necessary for such an event.

Now, at least, the formal proceedings were over, and the attendees had broken out into small groups, scattered throughout the mansion's grounds. There still wasn't much of a celebration. She'd listened in on a few of them to see what the guests were up to, and come away unsurprised: poetry, philosophical debate, and gossip.

She wasn't interested. Instead, she snagged a bottle of sake and a cup from a table as she passed, and carried them until she found an unoccupied balcony to settle in on. It overlooked the mansion's front courtyard and the milling crowd below. Dozens of unsuspecting, self-righteous deities. As she drained the cup for the third time, she wondered if she shouldn't hurl the bottle into the crowd when she was done.

Before she could act on the impulse, a voice interrupted her. "I thought I might find you by yourself."

Sagume glanced back, annoyed, but paused when she saw the speaker. She hesitated to very carefully line her words up in her head. It was sloppy, drinking like this somewhere where she might have to talk. "Omoikane. I didn't know you were keeping tabs on me."

“I keep tabs of everything that happens up here. And you should know that I abdicated my heavenly title, just like everybody else. It's 'Eirin' now.”

"Eirin, then." Sagume turned back toward the crowd and filled her cup again. "I'm allowed to be alone if I want."

"And do you want to be alone?"

"There isn't anybody up here that I'd want to spend time with.” Sagume shot Eirin a pointed glance and hoped that she could take a hint.

She didn't. Eirin settled in against the railing as well. "Well, unfortunately for you, we plan to live up here for eternity. Spending eternity drinking alone might get old.”

"Better than drinking with them," Sagume grumbled. The reminder made her want to shout curses off the balcony for half an hour. She settled for slumping against the rail, glaring blearily at the crowd below. "You weren't there. On Earth. In Izumo. Every few years, a different god came down from the heavens to try 'pacifying' the place. Trying to get it ready for this bunch. ... I lost people. Friends."

“Maybe they would have survived if they hadn't tried to resist destiny.”

“It wasn't _destiny_. It was heavenly spirits, high and mighty and thinking that they can take whatever they want because they're stronger. And now I'm on an entire _planet_ of you assholes.” Sagume thrust the cup toward the crowd below. Some of the contents sloshed out. Maybe she'd had a drink or two too many. Too late to stop now, though. "... and I'm a half-breed mutt with no reason to be here."

Eirin plucked the bottle from her grasp. Producing a small cup from her robe, she filled it and took a slow sip. "You're selling yourself short."

Sagume snorted dismissively.

“You are. You made the pacification of Izumo take fifteen years, instead of a few months. That's no small feat.”

“We still lost.” Sagume snatched for the bottle, but Eirin saw the attempt coming and moved it just out of reach.

“Before you drink yourself into oblivion, I have a proposal for you.”

“Can I drink myself into oblivion afterward?”

“That is between you and your liver.” Eirin finished her drink and sat her cup aside, then folded her hands on the railing to join Sagume in watching the crowd below. “You've seen what kind of people we have up here. They're bureaucrats, philosophers, and artists. They were to be the foundation of a perfect society, and I still think they will. But in the meantime... there are matters that need to be addressed, while that society is being built.”

She withdrew a scroll from her robe and offered it over. Sagume eyed it. “What's this?”

“A proposal that I think would suit your unique skills.”

Sagume didn't take the scroll, but turned to give Eirin her full attention, crossing her arms. Eirin continued. “There are rumors that two deities have been talking about returning to Earth together. If somebody were to leave this new society so soon... it would reflect very poorly on Lord Tsukuyomi.”

“And? Don't tell me you think I'm the right person to give them a sales pitch.”

“We already tried the 'sales pitch.' I'd like you to find out if the rumors are true. If they really are planning to return to Earth, fabricate some evidence that we can use to accuse them of a crime. They'll be found guilty at their trial... and the punishment will be banishment to Earth.” Eirin gave a tight smile. “We save face, and everybody is happy. You would, of course, be paid well.”

Sagume was too surprised to reply for a moment. “You want me to frame them?”

“I wasn't aware that you suddenly had morals.” 

“... forget it. If they want to leave this place, good for them. Maybe I should join them.”

Eirin didn't budge, and for a second or two, Sagume worried that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. She inclined her head in understanding, though, and tucked the scroll away. “Suit yourself. I'll let you sulk in peace, then.”

“I'm not _sulking_ , I'm...” _Drinking alone and avoiding all human contact._ Right. That didn't sound any better.

“Whatever it is, then. When you're ready to find some purpose in this society, get in contact with my assistants.” Eirin took a step back from the railing and turned to leave, but then glanced back, giving a wan smile. “In the meantime, if you don't enjoy this sort of gathering... come visit my manor sometime. I wouldn't mind talking to somebody that isn't a bureaucrat, myself.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Hereupon Amatsukunitama was pleased, saying, “Bring me a sword, that I might remove her head, and her limbs, and her heart, until no piece remains that one might call Amenosagume, for so great is my anger.” A great many servants were sent, and they returned with a twelve-span sword, but before Amatsukunitama could enact his vengeance, the deity Omoikane arrived, saying, “I have been sent by the deity Tsukuyomi to employ this woman in his service, and she should therefore be let to live.”_

* * *

“I've seen to this matter,” Sagume said, pushing a scroll across the table.

Eirin pulled it over to herself. “Thank you. I assume that means that the palace's servants were all innocent.”

Sagume said nothing, keeping her expression blank. Partially because speaking too much about the outcome of her intervention would risk undoing it, partially because she just liked to see Eirin kept waiting.

But Eirin was pretty good at reading silence. “I'll take that as a yes. I ran my own investigation, I'll have you know. Not into the servants, but into your efforts. Nobody could even say for sure whether you were interested in this matter. It was remarkable.”

“Is that so?” Sagume kept her voice carefully neutral. She crooked a finger in front of her mouth to hide even the hint of a smile she was wearing.

“That is so,” Eirin said. She smiled and tucked the scroll away.

They were seated in the center of Eirin's garden. It was, to Sagume's eyes, the epitome of lunar design... good and bad. Only a handful of flower species had been brought to the moon and purified for use within the capital, and she'd long since gotten tired of seeing most of them. Here in this pure land, they lived forever in a state of perpetual bloom, and would remain so until the sun burned out. The garden was decorated sparsely to compensate, with mere dozens of flowers planted throughout it. They were placed at just the right points to accentuate each other's beauty though, like some minimalist painting: the lines that defined a garden without any of the substance of a garden.

The manor, behind them, was equally spectacular, a sprawling building as large as most villages that Sagume could remember on Earth. Mere meters in the other direction, the Mare Ingenii sloshed gently against the shore.

She hadn't been surprised when she'd first seen it, though. By this point, everybody knew who Eirin was. She'd always run much of the moon from behind the scenes, but now she had the official rank to back it up, placing her over everybody but the family of Tsukuyomi himself. 'The Great Sage of the Moon,' they called her, in between her dozens of more formal titles.

Sagume did not have a formal title. She had grudgingly allowed them to award her a governmental rank, which said that she was fairly important. Nobody below her was quite sure why, and nobody above her would explain it if they asked. She simply took care of issues that might disrupt the order of things, and she did so quietly.

She'd gotten very good at being quiet.

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Eirin spoke again.”It took some time, but... I'm glad to see that you've settled in.”

“There was nothing to settle in to. Compared to trying to drive gods off of the Earth, this is...” Sagume paused, considering her words carefully. It never paid to forget her curse. “... I don't consider it difficult,” she finished simply.

“I meant in general. But yes, you've gotten very good at what you do. I expected nothing less.”

“You hired a very fine liar.”

“Among other things.” Eirin leaned forward over the table, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on them. She studied Sagume's face. “Do you know why I chose you, out of all the gods that we could have brought up here?”

“You needed somebody desperate enough to say yes.”

“You underestimate me. I could have found a way to enlist any deity I cared to name.”

“So modest.” Sagume glanced to her, and decided that Eirin really was asking the question seriously. “I don't know, then. Why?”

“You must remember, I am the Omoikane, the Thought-Combiner. There were five thousand gods with us when we came to the moon, and out of them, I could tell you what perhaps four thousand nine hundred and ninety-six will do tomorrow, if you gave me a few minutes to assess their current mindset.”

_So modest_ , Sagume thought again, with an extra helping of sarcasm this time. She kept it to herself. She'd already spoken more than she would in most entire days.

“And yes, you're one of the few exceptions. You're cunning.” Eirin lowered her hands and leaned forward, smirking. “And contrary, and ruthless.”

Sagume raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Eirin ignored it and continued. “The fact of the matter is that I've performed several calculations to predict how lunar society will evolve, accounting for every factor that I can accurately simulate. All of them collapse within ten millennia. But you, you're an unknown factor.”

Sagume frowned with surprise, but kept herself carefully quiet. The collapse of civilization wasn't the sort of topic that she needed to take a risk of speaking about, even as a joke.

“Don't take it the wrong way,” Eirin said. “It isn't that I expect you to save the entire civilization. It's simply that I know nobody else will. With you, there is a chance.”

“I'm not sure there's a _right_ way to take a comment like that,” Sagume muttered, still picking her words one by one. It felt dangerous even speaking about anything tangentially related to the topic. “You said that I'm only here for the off-chance that I'll save the world some day.”

“If that's all you heard, then you must be slipping. Think about it this way.” Eirin's hand drifted across the table and slipped into Sagume's, so casually that even a direct observer might write it off as a coincidence. “Every day, I have to talk to a hundred petty little people who are so straightforward, I can almost predict every word that they say. After that, talking to you is very... refreshing.”

_Refreshing_ , Sagume repeated mentally, while her heart skipped a beat. This should have been nothing new. Flirting was just one more weapon in her arsenal, although usually she was on the other side of it, not to mention dealing with somebody that she didn't care about. … which wasn't to say that she _did_ care about Eirin, just—with a mental groan, Sagume shoved the topic aside for now. “... it would seem,” she said, “that you have a knack for surprising me too.”

Eirin's expression took on the hint of a smile, as Sagume slowly interlaced her fingers with Eirin's. She considered her options.

Romance wasn't strictly banned on the moon, but it had been proposed a few times. It was a messy institution, which drove a great deal of humanity's hate, lust, and sometimes even murders. An endless well of secondhand impurities. It was considered much better to keep courtship as a purely political matter without too many emotional complications.

They were foolish even to do this much. Most of Sagume's informants were servants, after all—in the larger manors, it was practically an anomaly for there to not be somebody or another eavesdropping most of the time. Not to mention that this was _Eirin_ , who really wasn't the first person she needed to be developing more of a debt toward...

… but she was struggling to think of the last time, in the century that she'd been on the moon, that she'd touched even so much as another person's hand.

Before she could respond, the door into the manor flew open. It had barely budged a centimeter by the time their hands recoiled and they both leaned back, all business.

“Miss Yagokoro!” a rabbit squeaked urgently, hurrying up to the table. “There's an urgent message from the Ohotoshi manor. They'd like to see Lady Kishin immediately.”

“Miss Kishin is right here, as you can well see,” Eirin said, and glanced to Sagume. “Business?”

“Mh. An annoyance,” Sagume said, not daring to give any detail lest she upset the situation with her words. If the rumors were to be believed, a servant had heard two rabbits planning a revolution. It was ridiculous, of course. Rabbits across the moon were telepathically communicating at all times. If enough of them were conspiring to make for an actual rebellion, there would be dozens of reports, not a single one from a servant with a history of drinking too much. “But I'm told that matters of the peace are my concern now.”

“So they are,” Eirin said. “I'll leave it in your capable hands.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Hearing this, Amatsukunitama was put into a great rage, and could think only of bringing harm to Amenosagume, and said: “She may live, but I shall break her wing.” To which the deity Omoikane said: “Tsukuyomi has no need for her wing. I cannot deny thee.” Thus Amatsukunitama took his twelve-span sword, and with it cut off the wing of Amenosagume, so that all might see the fruits of her actions._

* * *

Sagume groaned and rolled over in bed. Her back was knotted up and twitching, and she arched it, trying to work out some of the tension. Her wing spread up into the air, splitting the dim light coming through the window into feather-striped bars.

Beside her, Eirin stirred as well. “Your wing again?" Even in the darkness, Sagume could feel her eyes on her.

Sagume didn't answer. She was right, though. Sagume could feel her missing wing twitching and flapping in the air, leaving her entire body tense and sore. Another shudder ran through her, and she reached back to irritably slap at it. Her hand hit nothing, of course. Even the feeling of her fingers passing through the empty air didn't convince her body that there was nothing there.

Eirin shifted out from under the sheets to kneel next to her. She rested her hands on Sagume's back and started kneading the flesh. Slowly, the twitches subsided.

“I've told you... three hundred and ninety-one times now. If you'd stop being stubborn, I could fix this.”

“I like the reminder,” Sagume murmured.

“You like refusing help, mostly. You'd say yes in a heartbeat if you thought you could make it look like your decision.”

Sagume gave a disinterested grunt, but she couldn't deny it. There was no point arguing with Eirin, anyway. She was always, infuriatingly, right. As the tension drained out of her, she flexed her wing again, and this time was pleased to find that she couldn't feel a nonexistent one mirroring its motions.

She glanced to the clock. It was a thin rectangle of glass, but dimly-glowing characters on the face assured her that it was 2:48 AM. New technology, the fruits of gathering all of the heavens' brightest minds together on the moon, had been steadily creeping into her life for centuries. The knowledge they'd amassed over the ages could prevent untold suffering on the Earth. Here, they mostly used it to tell time or make their doors open automatically.

Sagume spread her wing a few more times before sinking into the bed with a sigh. “It's fine now. I was awake anyway.”

“Very well.” Eirin's massage slowed to a stop, but she didn't move from Sagume's side. One hand drifted up to rest near where her wing had been severed, fingers lightly tracing over the scars. “If you'd rather treat the cause instead of the symptoms, I've been thinking about a method to regrow your wing. If we could isolate you in folded space-time, it should be fairly easy to manipulate belief to repair your body...”

“Not interested.”

“And there you have it. You'd rather say no than accept any help. I'm almost surprised I convinced you to join us in the first place.”

"I'm a contrary bitch like that." Once she was certain that the pain had passed, Sagume rolled over onto her side to face Eirin, tucking her wing in against her back, and leaned in to press a single kiss to Eirin's bared thigh.

Eirin stroked a hand through her hair. “And why couldn't you sleep?”

Sagume eyed her and stayed silent for the moment. At this point, she wanted to decline to answer solely to annoy Eirin. It might make her feel a little better. She felt like she wasn't going to get any sleep until she'd brought it up, though, so...

“There are rumors,” she said.

“I'm sure there are.”

“Rumors that...” She paused. Over the centuries, she'd gotten very good at dealing with the limitations of her speech, but cases like this still called for careful deliberation. Even directly acknowledging the situation she was speaking about could be enough to reverse it, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to risk that yet.

Instead she stayed silent.

Eirin studied her face. “You wouldn't have brought it up if they didn't concern me in some way.”

Sagume didn't answer.

“I'm right, then.”

“You're right.”

“So you've heard about princess Kaguya's recent interests.”

Sagume glanced aside, and willed her face into stone. She didn't know that her abilities could be triggered by nonverbal communication, but in a situation like this, she wasn't about to risk it, either.

“Your network of informants is better than I gave you credit for,” Eirin said. “She's been very careful about who she discusses it with.”

“I'm told that I'm both cunning and devious,” Sagume said dryly.

And the conversation went silent again. Sagume could still feel Eirin's eyes on her, though. She didn't think she was going to get out of some comment on the topic. “If a princess were to consider high sedition, she'd do well to remember that the punishment is very severe.”

“And what if she isn't afraid of the punishment?”

Sagume could find no good response that she felt safe putting into words. Eirin answered her own question after a few seconds: “She might welcome exile, in fact. It isn't that she fears death. She's interested in life. She wants to see the things around her grow and change, and have the time and leisure to enjoy them.”

“And watch them die.”

“And maybe even see them die, yes. She's still young and curious like that. Even if she gave up now, I don't think she'd be satisfied with life on the moon for much longer.”

Sagume's lips curled in distaste. Exactly what she should have expected from a princess. She'd heard words like that a dozen times, and they always came from self-absorbed, pampered brats. The kind who had been born here on the moon, who'd never lived on the Earth. Naive and so sheltered that they thought they might find some beauty in watching their friends die.

It was annoying enough that it took her a second or two longer to realize that Eirin _didn't_ sound disturbed by the idea. “Why haven't you tried talking her out of it?” she asked.

“I did. Several times, in fact. She's even more stubborn than you.” Eirin looked out the window pensively, and was silent for a few seconds. “I can't entirely disagree with her, though. Eternal life, separated from the need for purity and stasis that we have on the moon... It would let us do some wonderful things.”

“... if anybody else were saying things like that, you'd ask me to investigate them.”

“Perhaps I would.” Eirin slid back down under the covers and up against Sagume's side again, planting a soft, calming kiss on her forehead. “Something like that would take decades to develop, though. I still have plenty of time to talk her out of it.”

The two settled in, and after a few final murmured remarks, the conversation ended.

While her pain was gone, Sagume didn't manage any more sleep before the morning came.


	4. Chapter 4

_His anger not satisfied, Amatsukunitama said: “And I shall poison her words, as her words did poison my son's heart.” To which the deity Omoikane said: “Tsukuyomi has use for even poisoned words. I cannot deny thee.” Thus Amatsukunitama sent for poison of wolfsbane, and pufferfish, and lily of the valley, and vipers, and eight hundred plants and animals, and with them painted the tongue of Amenosagume, so that truth might flee from her lips and her labors might never be fruitful._

* * *

Sagume hurried down the hall, with one finger crooked in front of her lips to hide her expression. This corridor, in one of the royal manors, was normally one of the most secure locations on the moon. More recently, it had been serving as a temporary prison, and the guard rotations were doubled beyond that. They wouldn't dare to stop her. As she approached each rabbit guard, they stepped aside, wordlessly opening doors and bowing as she passed.

She'd never been in this wing before, but she knew the layout. One last pair of guards stood in front of the final door, with the subtle insignias to indicate that they'd been assigned by Tsukuyomi himself. These took longer, but Sagume held her ground until they agreed to open the door for her.

Sagume stepped into the private quarters of Kaguya Houraisan.

It was dark inside, and her eyes took a moment to adjust. The far wall was a single expansive window, which showed a vista of the capital below. This late at night, even the massive crowd that had shown up for the executions had dissipated. It let just enough light into the room for her to make out Eirin sitting alongside the bed, looking over the sleeping princess.

It was funny, in a way. Sagume's work for the past several years had revolved around this princess, and this was the closest they'd ever been to one another.

Eirin didn't look up when she entered. Several seconds of silence followed before Sagume broke it.  
“Can we speak?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Being executed and resurrected a half-dozen times takes a lot out of her,” Eirin answered, at a more normal volume. “I don't think you'll wake her.”

Sagume nodded, and settled her gaze onto the sleeping princess. She knew what she'd come here to say, but finding the right words for it was even harder than usual. “I've finished cleaning your laboratory.”

“I see.” Eirin did not sound particularly interested.

“I destroyed your notes on the Hourai Elixir.” She couldn't risk speaking the followup to that, but was sure Eirin knew it: The other sages would be satisfied now. It left nothing that might aid somebody else in making the elixir, and with Kaguya soon to be banished to Earth, a key ingredient would be unavailable anyway.

“Thank you.”

“Are you... still considering joining her on Earth?”

“Are you asking as my friend, or are you asking as an administrator?”

“I'm asking as your friend. Of course.”

Eirin finally looked up from Kaguya and met Sagume's gaze. She looked tired and harried. It was enough to make Sagume pause. In all the millennia they'd known each other, she'd never seen Eirin look _overwhelmed_. Even she still failed now and then, but usually she rose to it by planning a dozen new contingencies.

“I think I will, eventually. It will be years before I'm convinced that my successors can handle themselves. After that... I would like to, yes.”

A million responses gushed up into Sagume's heart. She gritted her teeth and filtered them down to a single sentence: “You're a fool.”

“Am I?”

“You _built_ this society. Now you want to abandon it because of a single girl?”

“I told you, very long ago, that lunar society couldn't continue for all time. Do you remember?”

“... I do.”

“I had wanted to build a society of thinkers and artists, to allow them to create beauty until the sun burns out, without the risk of death looming over their heads. Instead, I got complacency. They've become so concerned with preserving the status quo that nobody bothers to ask if it's still worthwhile. … you can't call an unchanging eternity 'eternal life.' It's only stasis.”

“And what's your alternative? Introducing life would bring death too. We wouldn't even have eternity left.”

“Maybe we would be better off for it.”

A shudder of disgust ran through Sagume, as Eirin so casually suggested letting every denizen of the moon suffer and die. Her memories of life on Earth were a blur at this point, gods and men and animals killing one another until it felt like the ground should be soggy with blood. She wanted no part of that. Not anymore.

Better to change the subject. ”I found something,” Sagume said, once a few seconds had passed in silence. “In your lab.”

Eirin looked to her, her expression kept neutral. Sagume wordlessly reached inside of her pocket to pull it out.

It was nothing special. A small green jar like a dozen others in Eirin's lab, with a broad cap that was screwed on tightly. Sagume hadn't even dared to try peeking at the contents. There was just something about it. The air around the jar seemed too still and calm, and it filled Sagume with a terrible nostalgia for something she couldn't even name. Just by handling it, she'd known what she was holding.

Sagume offered the last remaining dose of the Hourai Elixir over.

“You're giving it to me?” Eirin said.

“I wouldn't know how to dispose of it.”

Eirin reached over and took the jar, clasping it in her hands like a fragile gem. “I'm impressed,” she said. “There aren't many who could resist the allure of immortality like that.”

“There aren't. You were careless to leave it sitting out.”

“It wasn't an accident. It was an invitation. A test, to see whether you would choose your life on the moon, or eternal life on Earth with us.” Eirin glanced over, giving her a very bitter smile. “If I'd been paying attention, I would have already known the answer.”

Sagume froze in disbelief. It hadn't even occurred to her to drink the elixir. She had considered ways to talk Eirin into staying on the moon, of course, but the idea of going down to the _Earth_ , to live among death and decay and change...

“If you're going... I could reconsider. I could come with you.”

“You don't mean that,” Eirin said softly.

Sagume couldn't find it in herself to disagree. After several seconds, Eirin tucked the jar away. “I'll send this down to Earth with the princess. It won't cause you any more trouble, I'm sure.” Eirin turned away from her, her gaze settling onto the sleeping princess again. “I have to say, you've become a model Lunarian over the years.”

“... Eirin... I...”

Sagume barely coaxed the few syllables out of her throat to begin with, and they were cut off as soon as Eirin looked back to her. “Thank you for your assistance, Administrator Kishin. Will there be anything else?”

Sagume wilted under her gaze for just a moment before looking away. She managed a curt shake of her head before turning to hurry out of the room, tears streaming from her eyes for the first time in millennia.


	5. Chapter 5

_The spirit Amenosagume was left in great pain, and for five days and nights, she did not stir._

* * *

Sagume waited in a plaza near the edge of the capital. She'd managed to find a teahouse nearby, and fumbled her way through brewing a cup of tea for herself, leaving a handful of change on the counter to cover it. It sat on the table in front of her, its steam frozen in the air, just like everything else.

The capital was quiet now. She'd always thought of it as a peaceful place, but now that every citizen had been evacuated and even the buildings hung frozen in time, it was so quiet that she could hear her own pulse. She tried to make noise to cover it up, clearing her throat and jotting down notes now and then. Around her, the only movement was the occasional blur of the many spiritual drones she'd activated, squadrons of orbs silently hovering down the streets on a hunt for impurity. Just because help had arrived didn't mean she could lower her guard just yet.

As quiet as it was, she still didn't notice footsteps approaching until they were within ten meters. She looked up from her notebook, as Reisen walked down the street toward her. The rabbit looked rather the worst for wear, one ear drooping even more than usual, with a few gouges through her clothes and sweat shining on her skin. She was alive, though. Which meant...

“I did it,” Reisen said. “It's over.”

“You found her lair?”

“A blonde lady with red eyes, sounds sort of old-fashioned and likes making big speeches? Is there more than one of those up here now?”

“That's her. And you defeated her?”

“Right. She said the fairies will be gone soon.”

“Well done. You might be a criminal, but the people of the moon owe you a debt.”

“Well er, thanks. I don't know about 'debt'...” Closing the last of the distance between herself and Sagume, Reisen slumped down to lean against the plaza wall. “But I could really go for something to drink.”

* * *

Sagume pried the details of the confrontation out of Reisen as the rabbit rested and recovered. Reisen was reluctant at first, but soon caved in, describing the battle in a calm, thoughtful manner. She had an eye for tactics. She could have become a ranking figure in the Lunarian army if she'd stayed behind. 

More important... Eirin had sent her. Eirin had sent this rabbit.

The revelation had nearly floored her when she realized it. Eirin had sent this rabbit. 

After Eirin's desertion, Sagume had tried every method she could think of to pinpoint her location, but none of them managed to pierce through the veil that Eirin had raised around the residence. Only within the past decade had it even become apparent that they were within Gensokyo. Before that she hadn't even been sure that Eirin was _alive_. She'd had her doubts, from time to time. What if the Hourai Elixir hadn't worked as advertised? She'd woken up from more than a few nightmares on the topic, dead friends from ages long past, with Eirin's face instead of their own.

And now in front of her was a rabbit who would speak with Eirin again within the hour.

“When Eirin sent you...” Sagume said, keeping her tone neutral for reasons that, for once, had nothing to do with her abilities. “Did she tell you what was happening up here?”

“I don't think she was sure, either.”

“Of course. It's just... if Eirin sent you to help the moon through this crisis...”

“Er, I think you're forgetting that you sent a giant robot spider to attack Gensokyo. We really didn't have much say in the matter.”

“... of course.”

Reisen took a sip of her drink and tilted her head back to rest against the wall, rolling the tension out of her shoulders. After a few seconds, she laughed under her breath. “It's kind of weird, though. As soon as she heard what was going on, she knew that you were involved, Lady Sagume.”

“Did she...?”

“Mmhm. She said that you... well, she said you were the only one who'd come up with such a ruthless approach. I guess she's right. If the moon were going to invade Gensokyo, I'd expect more of a brute force, 'we're here to liberate you' sort of thing.”

Reisen sounded bitter, but Sagume didn't even notice. Her attention was elsewhere entirely. _Ruthless_. There was a word she hadn't heard in ages. She allowed herself a slight smile. “She's as sharp as ever.”

“That isn't the half of it. She's a good teacher, but my brain usually feels like an old dishrag by the end of our lessons. She did say some other things, but—” Reisen stopped mid-sentence, trailing off uncertainly.

“But?”

“Actually, I probably shouldn't repeat them...”

Sagume tried to hide her interest by taking a sip of her tea. Still warm, despite the fact that she hadn't touched it for hours. “I'm curious now.”

Reisen hesitated, but tilted her head, letting one ear droop to the side as she remembered. “... she said it was ironic for... for you to be on this side of purifying the Earth this time. It didn't really make any sense to me, but...”

But Sagume was no longer listening. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her teacup until she thought it was going to snap. _Heavenly spirits, high and mighty and thinking that they can take whatever they want because they're stronger._ It was a familiar situation, now that she thought about it that way. She veiled her mouth behind a hand, but still couldn't hide the way that she practically hissed her reply out through gritted teeth. “That isn't what happened. Everything I've done has been to _protect_ people. To protect the people that _she_ brought here.”

Reisen's eyes went wide. “A-ah, well, I don't really know the details myself, but...”

Sagume moved stiffly, choosing her movements with the same care and restraint that she usually showed with her words. She sat the cup down on the table. She rose upward and took a breath of the stale air to steady her voice. “Your assistance is no longer needed, earth rabbit,” she said, without looking to her. “You are dismissed.”

Overwhelmed, Reisen fumbled her way through a series of apologies and goodbyes, but Sagume heard none of them. Screams from ancient Izumo were echoing in her head.


	6. Chapter 6

Tucked under Sagume's arm was a satchel containing her most precious possessions. There weren't many of them. Her residence had always been sparsely furnished, and once she'd started trying to pick out specific items, she'd realized just how few of her belongings she really cared about. Most of the bag was taken up with a few essentials: A flask of water, a little food, and a bag of purification salts just in case she got cold feet.

The floor of the armory gleamed, reflecting her image back up at her. The place was tidy even by the already-strict standards of the rest of the capital. The hallways were all straight corridors that intersected at right angles, forming a tidy grid. Her eyes couldn't find a single speck of dirt. The only decoration were small, evenly-spaced alcoves, with individual lotuses growing in pots of water.

It was the first time in ages that she'd even bothered to notice flowers. There was always the knowledge that they'd be there the next day, and the day after that, forever alive and unchanging. Now, she stopped and ran her fingers over the petals of one. If she plucked them all off, she wondered, would the flower still be here in a week, or would it be replaced?

Before she could act on the impulse, a rabbit stepped out to block her path further into the armory. “This area is off-limits.”

Sagume glanced over to her, reluctantly pulling her fingers from the flower. “I need to take a veil.”

“There aren't any departures scheduled for today.”

Sagume raised an eyebrow. “Is that a no?”

The rabbit held her gaze for a moment... but no longer. It was a sight Sagume had gotten used to, as the girl's mind pulled together a few disparate rumors about a one-winged goddess. "A-ah, oh, Administrator Kishin! I hadn't realized! There are actually three veils ready to use right now, so I'm sure that if one were to go missing for a short while, it wouldn't cause any issues...?" she offered hopefully.

Smart girl. "Of course. Thank you."

The rabbit's ears drooped in relief. She dipped a deep bow as Sagume walked past... and guilt dragged Sagume's feet to a stop. She glanced back. "If your superior asks... I took the veil without permission."

The rabbit's ears perked up slightly. "Er, ma'am? Just how long do you plan on having it out for...?"

But Sagume was already moving again, and she didn't stop until she'd reached the alcoves where the veils were stored. She slid one onto her shoulders and stepped through the doorway out into the open.

The veil activated, and Sagume Kishin hovered up and away from the moon.

* * *

The flight had been a long, uneventful one. Just how long, Sagume couldn't personally say. She drifted back to awareness with the sense that a long time had passed, but no memories of it, like waking from a very long nap.

She drifted back to awareness with grass under her feet and trees stretching overhead.

Sagume blinked to adjust to the sunlight. She took a breath, and impurity rushed into her body. She could _taste_ it. This was air in which millions of generations had lived and died, eating each other and breeding since the dawn of time. She'd forgotten the sensation... or had she never noticed it back then?

She wheezed and gagged, forcing herself to breathe, as she stood up and inspected her surroundings. The only landmark in sight was a mountain, but she'd made a point of memorizing the local geography. It was enough to orient her. Choosing a direction, she set off toward the horizon.

The farther she walked, the harder it became to ignore the nature of the Earth. Compared to the moon, the air was a cacophony of animal cries. Dead leaves and branches littered the forest floor. With a secret little thrill of disgust, she picked up a leaf and watched it crumble in her fingers. An insect landed on her hand. She recoiled at first, but then stood and watch it as it crept blindly across her flesh. After ages away, she couldn't begin to guess at its species. Did it eat other insects, hunting them down and ending their lives to prolong its own? Did it eat plants? Was it hoping to find one of her veins and drink her blood, making her a part of this web of life and death?

She crushed it under her thumb and it stopped, its little legs giving one last feeble twitch. One more thing that would never live again, destroyed so easily. And she'd come here _willingly_. She'd laugh, if it weren't so gruesome.

She knew that she was getting close when the trees faded away into bamboo. Here, the world was quieter, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She'd been planning this for years, but even now, she found herself reconsidering. If any of the locals saw her, they'd probably attack on sight. She couldn't even blame them at this point. Eirin might attack her herself, if she had any sense in her head. At best, she was giving up eternity, and for what? To get eaten by insects and walk upon the corpses of trees?

This was a planet of death, and she'd been a fool to return.

Before she could convince herself to turn back, though, she made one last turn. Though she'd seen no hints of it through the bamboo merely seconds earlier, the mansion of Eientei was in front of her.

She approached slowly, and made the decision to keep her arms a short distance from her side so that any observers could see that she was unarmed. Groups of white rabbits—the four-legged earthly kind, which she'd almost forgotten existed—dashed around or watched her from the distance, but she saw no other observers. Even so, after all the distance she'd traveled, these last dozen meters felt nerve-wracking.

Sagume stepped up to the door, took a breath, and raised her hand to knock.

Instead, the door opened in front of her.

The room beyond was a simple main room, with tatami floors and a few pieces of furniture scattered around the perimeter. In the middle was a single table.

On the far side, Eirin was seated, her eyes on the doorway. She paused in recognition, but didn't let it slow her down for long. “If I'd wanted to stop you from reaching the manor, we had six opportunities between the time you landed and when you came into sight of Eientei. I'd still choose your words carefully, if I were you.”

Eirin had seen her coming ahead of time somehow. Of _course_ Eirin had seen her coming. Even here, she was always three steps ahead.

“I didn't come here to fight.”

“No, I don't think that you did.”

Sagume hunted for words, but despite days of coaching herself for this moment and millennia of experience at speaking deliberately, she found none except, “Eirin... I'm sorry.”

Eirin didn't reply. Sagume continued. “I still don't agree with you on everything, but I regret hurting you.”

Eirin remained silent. Sagume tried not to wilt under the weight of her gaze. She'd prepared herself for this. She'd told herself that it was a long shot, coming here unannounced to make amends, and resolved to accept whatever outcome it produced. It still stung.

“That's all I wanted to say,” she said, and finally glanced away. There were many more things that she wanted to say, really, but between her curse and the weight on her heart, now didn't seem like the time to say them. There would, more than likely, never be a time for that again.

“Where will you go now?” Eirin asked.

“Izumo, maybe. … I don't know yet. I... have nowhere in particular picked out.”

Eirin studied Sagume's face for a moment, then shook her head with a sigh. “It's settled, then.” She allowed a hint of a smile to find her lips, but quashed it as she rose to standing. “In the name of the Princess Kaguya,” she said solemnly, and dipped a deep bow, “I welcome you, exile from eternity, to Eientei. May your life here be long and peaceful.”

* * *

_And on the sixth day, Amenosagume awoke from her sleep, and finding Omoikane still waiting for her, said: “I am a liar and a slayer of gods who scorns the laws of heaven, and all that I have done has led to my ruin. What use do you have for me?” To which Omoikane said: “All things have their use, and in time, even thy wicked deeds may be redeemed. Come, there is much work to be done.”_


End file.
